


It’s the Little Things…

by vulthuryol



Series: Diamonds in the Sky [2]
Category: Marathon (Video Games)
Genre: Alien Character(s), Multi, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10688643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulthuryol/pseuds/vulthuryol
Summary: It’s the little things in life that make the Rozinante so interesting.





	It’s the Little Things…

**Author's Note:**

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> Probably should warn you guys that this is spoilers for my Diamond in the Rough story since it takes place after Marathon Infinity. In time I’ll find a way to blend this silly little short story into the main ‘Diamonds in the Sky’ fics. But until then, have some nonsense.  
> *  
> *  
> *

“Where are the spoons?”

The former security officer of the UESC Marathon raised his head to sleepily blink at the question. Despite his dedication, Calvin Revenant never liked mornings back when he lived on Mars. Now after all that has happened on Lh’owon as well as well as the attack on Tau Ceti seventeen years ago, the dirty blond haired man hated mornings with a vengeance.

Still, military training sticks with you, no matter how much one tries to become a civilian. So here Calvin was, awake at four in the morning in some weird Pfhor version of a lunch hall of the newly rechristened Rozinante. In his hands was a bowl of neon pink goop he coaxed from the food processor. Durandal claimed it to be edible for humans, but Calvin wouldn’t be surprised if he got hives later. As he slowly sipped from the bowl like an animal, the woman who just asked the question about spoons continued to look at his food with wary curiosity.

Seeing that she would gain no response from Calvin, the tall woman began to wander around the lunch room looking at the odd Pfhor equipment and technology within. From time to time she would take pictures and make observations of the alien furniture with her Tacpad. But for the most part, she seemed keen on finding the Pfhor eating utensils for her own bowl of pink goop.

As his sleep riddled eyes finally managed to focus on her, Calvin could see that Almace didn’t even bother to sleep last night. Since Durandal stole the Khfiva from the Pfhor and renamed it Rozinante, the S’pht had been hard at work revamping the ship to suit their needs. Almace, proving to still have the soul of an engineer inside that Battleroid body, was right there with the S’pht in doing ship repairs. 

Calvin wasn’t quite sure that working oneself to exhaustion was a good idea. But considering the past that the MIDA programmed Jane Doe cyborg once had? It was probably for the best that Durandal not only kidnapped her, renamed her, and kept her occupied as long as possible before the inevitable mental crash and burn.

Hell, Calvin was surprised he hadn’t crashed and burned after all that had happened. Maybe he just hasn’t woken up enough yet?

“Like seriously. Where are the spoons? Did the Pfhor declare war on all the spoons? Did the mighty Pfhor Empire decide to eradicate all spoons in their section of the galaxy and leave us…” She paused to raise the only eating utensils she could find. It looked like a spear, with a small bowl shape in the center, and then flattened into thin handle for the Pfhor hand to grip. Almace jabbed the air a few times with the odd looking object. “They left us with evil looking spear/sporks of doom. Why did they leave us evil spear/sporks of doom?”

Calvin didn’t bother to answer. His tired mind was slowly declining into a state where, if any scientists were observing him just at that moment, they would compare his brain sentience with that of a vegetable.

“Hey guys!”

Speaking of scientists…

Jason Revenant burst into the room with wide eyes and an eager grin. His manic energy and vibrating body language obviously meant that the elder brother hadn’t bothered to sleep last night either. “Guess what I found!” He held a waddled up bundle of fabric just before Calvin’s eyes. It was so close to the younger brother’s face that Calvin could pick out a strange musky odor to the object.

Scrunching up his face in disgust, Calvin batted the item away from himself. “Good job Brother. You found nylon. I’m sure it will come in handy for ship repairs.” Calvin jabbed a thumb over towards Almace. “Best to give it to her Jason, I have no use for it.”

The woman in question had given up on food in order to stick her face to her Tacpad. She had an intense look on her face while muttering ‘dents,’ ‘fuel dispenser,’ and ‘engine three.’ Her voice was turning darker with each word and Calvin felt sorry for whoever was on the receiving end of the message on her Tacpad. Probably one of her S’pht friends she made on the Marathon.

“Aw! Come on Cal! This isn’t used for ship repairs.” Jason laughed while shaking the nylon before Calvin’s eyes. “Guess what this really is.”

“What?” The response was so dry a desert would have cracked.

“Come on Bro. You’re supposed to guess.” Jason pouted at his younger brother.

“The wall is dented beyond repair. Great. Just great. We can’t even reuse it as scrap.” Almace looked up from her Tacpad in order to glare at the two brothers. “Anyone care to tell me why there are dents the size of Drinniol fists in the walls next to the fuel dispenser for engine three? Not only do I need to tear that wall apart now thanks to how warped the metal is, but I also have to fix the fuel dispenser in order to keep the engines functioning.”

Jason paused from playing with the nylon to look at Almace curiously. “Are we talking about that giant room near engine three?”

“Yes…” The girl’s sharp grey eyes could cut diamonds at this point.

“Oh yeah! Now I remember. Your Drinniol friend Gram wanted to learn how to fight with his fists like a human. And since I couldn’t spar with him for obvious reasons.” Jason waved a hand over his body indicating his small splatable human form. “I had him use the wall as a punching bag! Clever huh?”

Almace looked at the elder brother for a long minute. Calvin quietly wondered if he needed to step in order to break up a fight. But thankfully, Almace seemed consider Jason’s death unworthy of her time and turned her attention back to her Tacpad. Calvin sighed with relief as the murderous intent within the room dropped back to zero.

Jason, oblivious to his possible demise, pulled out the nylon and displayed it proudly before the busy girl. “Hey! I bet you can guess what the Pfhor use this for.”

“A noose for your throat. Please go away and stop making messes for me to fix.” Damn. Almace must really be tired if she was making low monotone threats like that. Calvin winced in sympathy.

“Cal?” Jason turned his hopeful eyes towards his younger brother.

“Sorry Jason. I have no idea what that is used for and I’m not gonna bother to guess.” Calvin shook his head.

Jason blew a raspberry at the two of them. “You guys are no fun. Well, for your information, this lovely little bit of fabric is actually…” The elder brother grinned eagerly as he stretched out the nylon into a familiar shape. “Pfhor underwear!!!”

Calvin, who was unfortunately drinking pink goop from the bowl at the time of this grand reveal, began coughing violently. Without taking her eyes off the Tacpad, Almace reached out and began to thump Calvin’s back to help him breathe.

“Hack! Caff! Jason!!! Where did you get that?” The unfortunate side affect of having such pale skin meant that Calvin’s whole body was now an alarming shade of tomato red.

Jason had the biggest shit eating grin on his face. He finally got the reaction he wanted this morning. “Found it while cleaning out the barracks! Seriously Bro. What were you thinking? Giving me the most boring chore on this ship?”

“I was hoping you would stay out of trouble and stop bothering the S’pht ‘Kr.”

A look of concern irritation crossed Jason’s face. “But they’re not making proper center pivot irrigation tools to water their crops! If the S’pht are going to grow their own food in the lower levels, they need to do it properly or they’ll starve to death!”

And here Calvin was worried that his elder brother would have a hard time getting along with the aliens. Apparently a few days traveling alongside the S’pht were enough to spark the ‘Big Brother/Mother Henning’ mode. “Jason, the S’pht ‘Kr lived on a giant round ball of a moon for over a thousand years. I think they know how to grow their own food and water it properly.”

“It’s no moon, it’s a space station.” Calvin’s brother, ever the dweeb, muttered in amusement. Jason sighed ruefully while stretching out the nylon out. He peered at them curiously before observing, “It looks like a thong but with leggings…” He made the underwear ‘dance’ across the table towards Calvin’s breakfast.

“Noooo! Keep that away from my food.” Despite the fact Calvin found the pink goop questionable to eat, he still tried to defend it from his elder brother.

“Come on Bro. I just want to look at it.” The underwear inched closer to the bowl.

“No. You just want to cause trouble as usual. Go get your own breakfast to play with.” Calvin pointed towards the food dispensers to emphasize his point. Sadly, while doing so, Jason saw the opportunity to dart a hand towards Calvin’s unguarded meal. Calvin tried to bat Jason’s hand away, only to hit the bowl instead. Within seconds, both brothers were covered in neon pink Pfhor food.

It took a second for Calvin to process what just happened before he muttered, “Oh god.”

“Yes?” A low amused voice answered over the Rozinante’s speaker system.

“Not you Durandal!!!” Calvin snapped before glaring at his older brother. “Jason…”

Laughing silver eyes looked up at Calvin’s, now neon pink, face. “Yeah Bro?”

“You have ten seconds to start running.”

Jason didn’t need to be told twice. The small dark haired man was off like a shot. With a whoop, he ran out of the lunch room still clutching the Pfhor underwear tightly in his fist. He raised his arm and let the leggings trail through the air like some bizarre flag.

It was like waiving a red flag before a bull, Calvin literally growled before launching himself off of his seat and charging after his brother. Sounds of laughing, shrieking, and the pounding of feet followed after.

Almace, still looking at her Tacpad, addressed the only other member in the room. “I thought we agreed it would be best if you kept an eye on him.”

“And I did.” Durandal replied cheerfully. “I watched Jason as he discovered quite a few pieces of Pfhor furniture. I even have captured images of his face when he discovered the Pfhor’s reproduction toys.”

That last sentence was enough to make Almace finally raise her head to regard the food dispensers’ cameras. “Seriously?”

“Would I ever lie to you?”

Almace didn’t bother to answer that question. Her unblinking stare was more than enough.

“Alright point taken.” The A.I. conceded.

“I want those pictures.”

“Sending them to your Tacpad.” It wasn’t often that she would openly ask for something from Durandal. Her Battleroid implanted mind made her a little too Spartan to ever want things for herself. Thankfully this was a simple request to fulfill.

Before she had a chance to look at the pictures, more loud shouting could be heard outside the lunchroom doors. Almace stared at the direction where the ruckus was coming from before asking, “Any chance we could also put those two in the Pfhor status chambers?”

“And miss out on all the fun? Do you not understand how bored I was on the Boomer with no one to talk to but the S’pht and Muller? And considering Muller’s level of intelligence? Calling any form of interaction with him as ‘communication’ is being kind to the idiot.”

Almace waved her hands placidly before the cameras. “Fine. Fine. Any chance I can go into the Pfhor status chambers instead?”

“You do realize you are the only useful one here.” The answer was ringing in a singsong voice. “That means I’m never letting you go.”

“Lucky me.” She picked up the Pfhor eating utensil she found earlier and played with the tip of the spear. 

Suddenly, the sound of pounding feet echoed near the doorway before a loud crash was heard. A shriek of metal scraping off of metal and Jason’s hushed, “Oh… Shit…”

With a hiss Almace got up from her chair. Her grey eyes now glowing yellow due to the enhancements, and her posture was in tense battle ready position. With a snarl of genuine human emotion she yelled, “If you two have broken another thing for me to fix, I’ll rip off your family jewels and hang them up for target practice!!!”

Something akin to girly shrieks was heard outside of the doorway and the thunder of stampeding feet signified the brothers’ retreat. A long silence passed after that announcement before Durandal remarked, “You can be really scary sometimes. You know that?”

Her glare at the cameras only reminded Durandal of the time she found a defective Juggernaut on Lh’owon. The poor thing couldn’t self destruct at the time. So Almace started shooting grenades at the hapless drone, forcing the thing into the air and then keeping it suspended in the sky by shooting rockets at it. She continued to ‘juggle’ the Pfhor weapon for five minutes and forty three seconds, like some explosive version of Wall-ball, before she finally ran out of ammunition. Almace’s smile and laughter, which Durandal recorded from that beautiful moment, was the stuff of legends…

…or possibly nightmares.

In any case, the A.I. thought it was wise to add. “I like it.”

Her breath came out in a huff and she brandished the Pfhor eating utensil at his cameras. “Watch it. I have a spear/spork of doom and I can use it.”

“Oh no. I’m shaking within this terminal. Or it could just be the vibrations of electricity running through the wires.” Durandal didn’t even bother to do a maintenance check to know the answer. “It’s the electricity. In any case, threatening to electrocute yourself by stabbing the power cables will not give you a vacation. Nor will you be allowed to recover in the Pfhor status chambers.”

She sighed and dropped the spear/spork on the table. “Worth a shot.”

Durandal’s code swelled in amusement as he observed her along with all the other crew members on the Rozinante. These next seventeen years will be very different from the last seventeen years aboard Boomer. The A.I. was sure of it. And for some odd reason, Durandal couldn’t stop laughing…

**Author's Note:**

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> Still working on chapter eight of Diamond in the Rough. No worries. I just had to type this and get it out while everything was fresh and powerful within my mind. As you can see, I take my work very seriously. (Cough Alien Underwear Cough) And once I get some sleep, I’ll get back to telling these stories in chronological order.


End file.
